


Universal Truths

by jucee



Category: Hikaru no Go
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-03
Updated: 2013-05-03
Packaged: 2017-12-10 07:04:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/783201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jucee/pseuds/jucee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a man in possession of a good fortune but not a wife, must be gay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Universal Truths

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written ten years ago (jesus) and was recently revised.

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a man in possession of a good fortune but not a wife, must be gay.

Ogata Seiji isn’t too sure why this is so, but judging from the knowing looks that he began to receive ever since he dumped his last girlfriend, everybody certainly believes it. 

One day after a study session, Touya-sensei asks him, his gaze delicately averted, if he could perhaps introduce Ogata to a ‘special’ friend of his. Of course Ogata is forced to decline, just as politely. 

Meanwhile, Ichikawa-san, who is probably Ogata’s only female acquaintance whom he considers a friend, often likes to discuss fashion and boyfriend troubles with him, as if taking for granted that he’s actually interested in that kind of stuff. 

And now here is Ashiwara, blushing bright red and stammering nervously, wanting to know if Ogata would like to have dinner with him that night.

“Dinner.” Ogata’s voice is flat.

Amazingly, Ashiwara reddens even more. His cheeks are a rather alarming shade of crimson as he stutters, “D-Dinner. But if you’re busy... maybe another time, then?”

Ogata stares at the other man, unsure of how to put this politely, and unsure if he really cares to. “Ashiwara, I don’t know where you might’ve gotten the idea that I’m… like that. But I’m not.”

Wide brown eyes blink up at him in shock, embarrassment, dismay. And although Ogata tries to convince himself otherwise, a flash of pity also crosses that flushed face.

“Look, if you’re just asking me to dinner as a friend, I’d be perfectly happy to join you,” he explains, though he doesn’t really know why he feels the need to justify himself. “But I _have_ had girlfriends before, you know.”

Lifting his head defiantly, Ashiwara retorts, “So have I... even if it was a long time ago.”

“A long time ago?” Ogata tries to stifle a rude snort, but doesn’t quite succeed. “You’re, what, twenty-two? You were still in diapers, a long time ago.”

“I turned twenty-three two weeks ago!” Ashiwara responds somewhat defensively. Then his gaze lowers as he mutters, “But you were too busy with the Honinbo league games to come to the party.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that.” Ogata regards the disappointed face before him, feeling a twinge of guilt in his chest and at the same time wondering how a man could have such absurdly long eyelashes. Even looking like a tomato with curly brown hair, Ashiwara is almost femininely pretty; Ogata could almost imagine himself kissing those soft pink lips. 

Not that he ever would, of course, because the world and its mother could speculate about him until they’re blue in the face, but they’re still wrong.

Completely and utterly. Wrong.

So they’re standing in the lobby of the Go Institute, looking everywhere but at each other, stewing in a silence so uncomfortable that it isn’t even disrupted by the loud laughter of passing Insei. Finally, unable to stand any more of Ashiwara’s awkward feet-shuffling and hand-fidgeting, Ogata grabs the other man by the elbow and drags him out of the building.

“Where did you want to go, then?” he asks brusquely.

His answer is a disarming grin like the sun emerging from behind dark clouds, and a shy suggestion of, “How about the Italian place near the station?”

“Fine. Great.” 

When they reach Ogata’s car, Ogata removes his jacket and tosses it to the backseat before settling himself comfortably behind the wheel. He’s about to start the car when he can’t help but notice Ashiwara staring at him. “What is it now?”

Ashiwara studies his paisley-patterned shirt for a few seconds more, then almost-whispers, “Ogata-san, are you _sure_ you’re not gay?”

Ogata grits his teeth. “Less and less sure by the second,” he mutters under his breath, and resolves to reconsider all of his life choices if he can only survive this dinner with his dignity intact.


End file.
